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User blog:Freelancer Tucker/Darkside Chapter 1: Falling
Seraph was working as part of a convoy for a cargo hauler full of stolen mining equipment the first time he “died”. The missiles were stone age – frag payloads riding a combustion trail, thick and greasy even in space, smart as a brick – so he hadn’t felt them coming in: hadn’t felt the screech on his mobile suit. It turned out the guy who’d stolen the mining equipment had pissed off another guy, who’d been planning to steal the same mining equipment, and that the other guy had decided the most appropriate way to register his displeasure was to rig up a SAM site and blow the whole cargo to fuck in the middle of territory space . Not that Seraph knew this at the time. At the time, he hadn’t known much of anything: just knives in every one of his nerves and the shrill red scream of alarms. "Warning. Hull breach. Warning. Structural integrity compromised. Warning. Warning. War-" ---- He wasn’t aware of what was happening, he was certain he was dreaming, but not much else about it. There was just a empty blackness that seemed to go on forever in every which direction, if he was completely honest with himself, Seraph would admit that this frightened him immensely. Not the darkness per say, but the emptiness, it reminded him of what awaited him at the end of things. Absolution and oblivion, the two things he could boast that his doppleganger would never truly understand. Marquis was always surrounded by the light and his pitiful friends, or he was, now he saw nothing but oblivion as well, thanks to a well-timed saber. The thought brought a sickly feeling inside him, neither too happy for his other’s death nor too sad about it, Marq was gone and his thought brought emptiness like the darkness he now stared down. There was a new sensation, something he hadn’t noticed at first, like a small pin-prick against his arm, it soon began to worsen into a incredible burning sensation, working it’s way through his arm and into his chest. Seraph gritted his teeth in response to the pain, there was something wrong here, and it wasn’t the darkness his subconscious seemed to be full of. He tried to move or squirm away from this feeling, but nothing seemed to work, the darkness holding him down. “It’s not real, get a hold of yourself!” He screamed at himself through gritted teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again; it seemed to work, as the darkness began to retreat, the pain receding from his body. He gasped as a bright light overtook his vision. It stung his eyes, as they began to readjust themselves to the new brightness. He felt disorientated, what was he doing again? He raised a arm to block out the light, but found himself unable to move his appendage. “What the hell?” He muttered to himself, as he began to struggle against whatever was holding his arm back, his vision gradually returning. He seemed to be able to move his feet, letting out a sound of displeasure at the situation, Seraph turned around looking at his surroundings; it was a pure white room. It was spacious and large. The roof, floors and walls were made up of some sort of tile, it seemed to be the source of the god-awful light permuting throughout the place. He needed to get out of this place, taking his first step, he found himself almost falling to the floor. He was still disorientated, his mind barely functioning beyond the basics every non-idiotic being processed to survive. This did not however, stop him from letting loose a string of the most profane obscenities known to the universe. Pulling himself off the ground, Seraph began to contemplate a plan of action. The hollow silence of the white room was soon broken, as metallic sounding footsteps began to pound closer to the room, Seraph had no way of seeing who or what was coming, his mind playing out his eventual escape from this room. The hiss of automatic door being opened filled the room, breaking his mental reverie. He looked at the other end of the room to see a trio of armed men enter, two wore armor he had never seen before, but in-between them was a Spartan. The Spartan was handcuffed, Seraph cursed himself for not realizing that he was as well, feeling idiotic for attributing his lack of limb control to a “force”. The two other men seemed to be guards of some sort, leading the Spartan to the center of the room, before beating a hasty exit, closing the door behind them. Seraph was confused by this point, looking at the armored individual thoroughly. Whoever it was seemed worse for wear, their armor seemingly repaired very sloppily with metal welded to it’s chest and shoulder pieces; he was pretty sure they were stuck here like him. “Take a picture man, it’ll last longer” A oddly static voice said with a hint of joy in it’s tone, Seraph looked around for the source, before looking at the Spartan dead on from their respective positions. “You can talk?” He asked the Spartan in surprise, having been taken back by the jovial tone the man had taken. “Of course I can talk dumbass, no thanks to this crappy helmet” The Spartan responded with a harsh tone. The armored man shifted in his stance, seemingly waiting for something more exciting to happen. “This your first time fighting?” Seraph looked at the Spartan, he could see himself reflected in the man’s visor. He was dressed in his flight suit still, it didn’t look damaged from what he could see; it did bring to mind too many questions that he was not able to answer. “By the way your eyes seem to be bulging out of your head, I’mma take that as a yes.” The Spartan cracked his neck, letting the sound ring throughout the room. “Just take the beating, it’s better than letting them know what you can do.” He was going to ask who or what the other man was talking about, when the lights turned off, revealing the screaming crowd surrounding them both. He could make out different races throughout the crowd, it was predominantly humans; they were all shouting for one thing though: bloodshed. As quickly as the lights went off, they turned back on, returning the room to it’s barren whiteness, silencing the shouts. It did not however stop the screaming coming from Seraph’s mind, telling him he was not going to enjoy the next few moments of his life. Category:Blog posts